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Karen Carpenter

“O for a thousand tongues to sing…”
But yours is silent.
We mourn again,
Even those who are young,
Because there is no glory in death.

The songs now are knives to us.
We are reminded
There is no glory in death,
And you will not sing for us
In the land of the living.

Even now, I hope
Through the pain.
Hope in the Resurrection.
I wonder aloud:
Will you sing for Him again?

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